Inkpaw

tears that stain more than just my pillows
my pride is warped from the moisture of my eyes
and crumbling are the deffenses that once stood so tall
the floor seems a friend waiting to embrace my tired body
as i fall backwards

words that flow like blood
through veins of blue pen ink 
and pencil led bones. 
 

red
like the flames that turn whatever may touch them
to ash
red
like a song with an intense beat
red
like the thin line of color on the wing of a bird
or the marker that i used so much

the excitement 
that flows through my veins
coursing through every limb at the speed of light
until. ... .
it stops
and the fear 
that follows me like a shadow

(heavily inspired by golden_eagle's post "My First Love" thank you to them for that wonderful bit of insperation!) 
my first love
was art
the colorful smudges of restaurant crayons on paper napkins